


John x Self-Harmed!Reader: Don't Hurt Yourself

by KingOfHearts709



Series: Special [17]
Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Cutting, F/M, Self-Harm, be careful pls, ilu all, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:24:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John can help. John will always help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	John x Self-Harmed!Reader: Don't Hurt Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is NOT when I used to cut myself. It was actually a long time before it happened. I don't know what spawned this, and I don't remember why I wrote it. I guess this was after I was depressed, though. I don't quite remember.  
> Note: If you hurt yourself, it's okay. It'll get better. I promise. xoxo

You were in the bathroom of 221B, door locked and bolted.  
It was time to relieve yourself.  
You reached into your bag and pulled out a sharp, clean pocket knife. You clicked open the longest blade with a sigh and pressed it against your palm. A small drop of crimson blood appeared as you ran it a couple inches down to your wrist. Blood seeped out of your skin as you held your wrist over the sink.  
That felt good.  
You could feel the warm liquid run down and drop into the sink. You smiled.  
That felt really good.  
John was reading a book in the living room as Sherlock walked through the door in a huff.  
“Where’ve you been?” John asked as Sherlock set his coat on the hook and threw his scarf to the side.  
“Case,” Sherlock replied as he went to go to his room. “Boring.” John raised his eyebrows as Sherlock’s bedroom door shut. He rolled his eyes and continued his book.  
Suddenly, he heard a clink from the bathroom.  
He still didn’t know you were in there.  
John stood up and walked to the bathroom door, knocking lightly.  
“(YN)?” he said. “You in there?”  
You turned around, flinging blood across the floor. You didn’t answer him.  
There was no way you were letting him see what you were doing to yourself.  
John knocked again.  
“Hello?” he asked again. You closed your eyes. There was a different knife in your hand, but you dropped it then.  
John raised his eyebrows and banged on the door harder.  
“(YN)?” John yelled. “(YN), open this door!” You shook your head, even though John couldn’t see. “I will break down this door!” You sank to the floor.  
You didn’t want him to see.  
Seconds later, the door slammed open and John stood in the doorway. You pressed your cut arm to your chest as tears escaped your eyes.  
“Oh, my...” John said as he dropped to the floor and picked up one of the bloody knives you had used. Crimson drops fell on the tile as he dropped the knife in a panic. He looked up at you, breathing heavily as you shuffled away from him.  
“(YN), let me see,” he said cautiously. You shook your head. “Let me see,” he demanded sternly. You turned your head away as he took hold of your arm and held it out. Again, blood dripped down your skin and onto the floor like a waterfall of pain, creating a pool of red. He closed his eyes and let go, pulling his hands to his face and running them down to his chin. He looked to his right and, thankfully, there was the first aid kit in place. He grabbed it and ripped it open, taking out medical supplies to fix your arm. You heard him moving and looked to see John pulling out gauze.  
Even after all this, he still wanted to help you?  
“J-John?” you whispered. He sighed and moved closer to you.  
“Give me your arm,” he said softly. You held it out slowly and he took it, cleaning the wound, then wrapping the cloth around your wrist and hand before taking another roll and wrapping the rest of your cuts. He leaned down and kissed the cloth, rubbing it carefully and closing his eyes.  
“Thank you,” you said quietly, which made him snap his head up.  
“Please don’t do this again,” he said, and you nodded. “Why did you do this?” You gulped.  
“It feels... good.” John sighed and pulled you up off the floor.  
“Come on, we’re going to go put you to bed,” he said, and took you out of the bathroom and up the stairs to his room. After setting you into the bed and tucking you in, he was about to go to the doorway until you voice stopped him  
“Can you stay with me?” you asked childishly. He looked back and let out a content breath before taking off his shoes and snuggling into bed with you.  
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s okay now.”


End file.
